


Child in Time

by Lazy8



Category: Gargoyles (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Names, Seduction, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13125588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazy8/pseuds/Lazy8
Summary: Seducing and marrying Macbeth is an integral part of Demona and Thailog's plan. The seduction part is easy - but also far more complicated than she anticipated.





	Child in Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Squickqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squickqueen/gifts).



> Commissioned by Talimee. Enjoy your evil holiday.
> 
> Set in and around the episode "Sanctuary".

The whole thing was almost too easy.

_Over the past several months, she'd taken the time to learn a few routines. Useless human preening, but it served her purposes. She might not be able to rely on her physical strength during the day, but never mind—she had other methods at her disposal now._

_Demona always started with the hair. The comb she had chosen was hard, and she had to admit, she liked the way its bristles raked against her scalp. Her mate had always been gentle by default, careful—but sometimes, she'd liked him to be rough, and she hadn't been afraid to tell him to come at her claws out._

_…Thailog, she never_ had _to tell. He knew what she liked, and he never hesitated to give it to her. She smiled at the thought of the things they could do once she had managed to achieve success. But first…_

_Working the morning tangles out of her hair wasn't_ quite _the same as the sensation of hungry claws yanking and raking through her scalp, but it was pleasant all the same—and one thing that could be said for the human body, their skin was_ much _more sensitive to even the lighter touches._

_Once her hair was neatly combed, she went to work on the face. She reddened her lips. She drew dark outlines around her eyes that made them appear bigger and softer. A touch on the cheeks, but not too much, gave the appearance of a healthy flush. Looking at herself when she was done, she was unrecognizable as a gargoyle, let alone Demona._

_Dressing in human clothes was harder. The kind of clothes that she'd need restricted her movements and made it impossible to fight—but she was not here to fight, not yet. She made a point of wearing high heels as often as she could—it felt more natural that way, more like the way she was used to walking when she was in her true form. One last look in the mirror confirmed the illusion was complete._

* * *

She could not believe that he didn't recognize her.

Yes, she had disguised herself on purpose, but they had fought side by side for several decades, and again against each other for several centuries more. Yet here he was, the great king Macbeth, smiling at her over a cup of coffee and beaming at her every word.

'I can see how you change toward me when you think I'm one of _you_ ,' she thought, flashing a smile of her own as she raised her cup to her lips. Names, clothes, relationships… humans never changed. The only thing that mattered was what was important to _them_.

"Dominique… I have never felt a connection with anyone like I do with you. I cannot say whether this is destiny…" He trailed off, staring thoughtfully into his cup.

"Oh, I'm sure that it is," she returned, reaching over to take his hand across the table. She had a part to play, after all.

Besides, she could hardly claim it was not true.

How simple, how effortless to get to this point. Make herself attractive enough (by preening human standards) to get a man to notice her—she could manage that, easily. Make herself appealing to _this_ man in particular? More difficult, but doable. After all, she knew him far better than he thought…

_"Oh! I am so, so sorry!"_

_She had practiced for_ months _to get this right. Having traveled the world several times over, she knew how important it was to sound like a local if she wanted to pass for one, and affecting an accent was not nearly as easy as it sounded. Knowing just enough of the right topics to make him believe that she was what she said she was—that was important as well. Just to be sure, she'd brought a few props along with her._

_"No, please, the fault is with me. I fear that I was living in the past again rather than paying attention to my surroundings." He handed her the last of the stack of textbooks and papers that she'd feigned dropping when she'd subtly maneuvered herself into his path. "Please, allow me to make it up to you. Do you drink coffee, miss…?"_

_"Destine." She allowed herself a small, private smile as she accepted his offered hand. "Dominique Destine."_

* * *

_The first time they'd allied, they'd met as warriors, comrades-in-arms. He'd had a kingdom to fight for. She'd had a clan to protect. Yet even then, they'd been eternally bound._

_Receiving his youth had been a gift, a rush of euphoria. Though every battle it had revitalized her, thrumming through her veins as she'd cut down enemies one by one. There was something in it then, something that hadn't been there in the days of her first youth—or at least, not that she could remember._

_Naming her had been an act with far fewer repercussions, but no less intimate for that. Even so, she hadn't minded. The name he'd given her had been fierce, intimidating. A name suited for a true warrior._

_She hadn't wanted to trust him. She'd wanted even less to_ like _him._

_Then again, it seemed that whenever she saw him, she always had the battle-fire in her veins. Some things were not without precedent—gargoyles mated for life, but the life she'd had was long over._

* * *

It was a delicate balance, seeming receptive without making herself appear suspiciously eager. Even so, it was not hard to play on his weaknesses. Macbeth was, after all, an exceedingly lonely man.

A cup of coffee was a natural way to begin an extended conversation. She'd made sure to smile as she listened to him, filing away whatever he'd been willing to tell her about the life that he'd been living. After draining her cup, she'd made a show of looking at the nearby clock, and stood.

"I must get to class. Still, it was enjoyable talking with you, was it not?"

"Very much so." He stood as she did, extending his hand. "Though I must say, Miss Destine, the pleasure was all mine."

"Please, Monsieur, call me Dominique." She grasped his outstretched fingers. "We must do this again sometime, no?"

A brief expression of pleased surprise flickered across his face before he graced her with a smile. "Indeed, if that is your wish."

A time and a place was agreed upon. Then, she'd walked away, making sure to head in the direction of the university just in case he was watching, not turning back lest he see the smile of triumph on her face.

The first time that he proposed they do something a little less… _platonic_ than coffee, she'd readily accepted that as well.

Sleeping with him was a possibility she'd neither committed to nor rejected out of hand. The only thing that mattered was what would be most effective for her long-term plan… and as it turned out, sex was too valuable of a tool for her not to use.

Sex with _this_ man, though, turned out to be more complicated than she'd anticipated.

When they were still allies she had wondered sometimes, in passing, what it would be like to have his hands on her. An idle curiosity, and one she would never have acted on: to ally with a human was one thing, to allow one so far into her heart and other places… never. Never again would she give her heart away so freely only to have it crushed.

This time was different. This time, _she_ was in control.

_"Dominique Destine. What do you think?"_

_"Hrrm. One human name is like any other, but I am curious as to the reasons for your choice."_

_"Dominique is a name I've heard quite often in this part of the world. I have to make him believe I'm a local, after all."_

_"Very true, my clever angel. And Destine?"_

_She grinned. "For the destiny that binds us together."_

_Her mate smiled back. His fangs flashed white in the moonlight. "I think it suits you perfectly, my love."_

"Dominique," another man now whispered as he shuddered beneath her, spent. "Dominique…"

To name something was to own it, to control it; it could be the only reason why the humans were so obsessed with naming and labeling everything they came across. It had been the same with her, though she had not seen it until it was too late. This time, though, _she_ had been the one to take her name into her own hands. Chosen for herself, _by_ herself, and nobody would ever take that from her again.

With his arms still wrapped around her, she leaned down to kiss him, shuddering with sensual pleasure she had not anticipated at the sound of her _chosen_ name falling from his lips.

She did not say his name in turn. If she did, she could not be sure his _real_ name would not slip out.

"My love," she whispered instead. "My love…"

Whispered, and wondered why it sounded so right.

* * *

She did not feel guilt over what they were planning to do to him. After all, _he_ had betrayed _her_ first.

Still… it was easier to play a part, to convince him she felt something, if she actually _did_ feel something. To feel…

It was all too easy to genuinely feel something.

Knowing him as a lover was so different from knowing him as a fellow warrior. He was gallant, and courteous. Anything she wanted, he would give her without hesitation. Again and again he spilled his feelings to her, blabbing far too many of his thoughts and baring far too much of his soul with the desperation of a man who'd been far too lonely for far too many centuries.

He was playing right into her hands.

'You deserve it,' she thought as he showed her the combination, with a solemn declaration that what was his was hers. 'You once stole my clan from me; it is only fair that I take everything that is yours. Perhaps then you will get a small taste of _my_ life.'

* * *

_"We will have to wait for him to make the first move," she'd declared while she'd still been in the planning stages with her mate, shortly after she'd made contact but well before they'd gotten past the coffee meeting stage. "He might become suspicious if I push too hard."_

_"I agree." Thailog's grin flashed in the night as he turned to her. "After all, we have all the time in the world."_

_"And you do not mind, my love?"_

_His grin grew wider. "I was trained from birth to do a good cost-benefit analysis. The money we can get out of this will be well worth your trouble—and why should I be jealous, if you care nothing for this human?"_

_She reached up, entangling her fingers in his thick, long hair. "My thoughts exactly."_

* * *

It had taken a surprisingly short time for him to make the first move—or indeed, _any_ move. Still, she supposed that could only be to her credit. After all, she knew her work.

All this planning, all of this effort, and he had walked right into her trap. She could not wait to see his face.

Dominique, he called her. Dominique Destine, it would say on the marriage certificate—there was no reason why it should matter, for a human alias, but she had opted to keep her own name rather than let him once again bestow his upon her. He had had no objection.

Oh yes, she looked forward to his shock when he saw her _true_ self—even if the name he'd call her by then would be the one he had chosen for her rather than her own.

* * *

_"Please, Dominique. I want to show you. What is mine is yours."_

_"Well," she feigned reluctance, "if you insist…"_

_"I do." He took her by the hand. "Come." His smile was eager. "You will be living here shortly. You deserve the full tour."_

_"Such wealth," she breathed, doing her utmost to look impressed. "Oh, but I do not mean to pry…"_

_The happiness on his face faded somewhat. "I have had many long years with nobody but myself. It is surprisingly easy to accumulate material wealth, when one has no one to share it with."_

_There was absolutely nothing that she could say to that. Material wealth was alien to her kind, but again and again, she had shared those things she did have: her heart, her trust, her very soul. Again and again, she'd ended up with nothing. It did not strike her as strange that Macbeth would think this way._

_Love and trust had brought her no joy, and for far too many centuries, she hadn't even had those. It was time to see what material wealth could do. The man who came attached… well, he was simply an inconvenience she would have to overcome._

* * *

Paris spread out before them in the moonlight as she rested in her love's arms.

Thanks to Goliath and his meddling _human_ friend, they had not succeeded in their plans. Macbeth was alive, both in theory and in practice. The money and property they had hoped to obtain was still firmly in his hands. Still, they had each other, and that was something. For the first time in a long time, she did not feel alone.

If she bothered to think about it, which she wasn't doing, she couldn't say the same for the man she'd left behind.

He had wanted to end it. On some level, she did too—even though she could not say she was ready to die. Like it or not, though, they were bound together by destiny. Like it or not, she could not hurt him without hurting herself in turn.

Now was not the time to think on such matters, though. The night had been tiring. She was bruised and sore. She had even _died_ that night—that was not an excuse that could be claimed by many. What she needed more than anything right now was rest. Destiny could catch up to her later.

Dominique Destine was a good enough name for her human mask, but in the end, she supposed, she was still Demona.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song "[Child in Time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tNMP4GfUZvc)" by Blackmore's Night (though I've always considered "[World of Stone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qHdAOKoL18)" to be Demona's theme song, I thought that this one was a better match for this particular story). Blackmore's Night in general is very well-suited to this world.
> 
> I just about tore my hair out angsting over whether this was good enough. I hope that you enjoy it.


End file.
